


That one time in Helsinki

by lady_valkyria



Series: Something just like this [3]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: #HELLsinki, 2017 World Figure Skating Championships, Alex Shibutani - Freeform, Brian Orser - Freeform, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Brown - Freeform, M/M, Mama Hanyu, Misha Ge - Freeform, Shoma Uno - Freeform, Small cameos by:, The author is still shook, Tracy Wilson - Freeform, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:23:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_valkyria/pseuds/lady_valkyria
Summary: The passing of the world crown is never easy.For Yuzuru and Javier, it's much more than that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So. Worlds, right? *dies*
> 
> I've been picking at this with tunnel vision since the competition ended and am now exhausted from all the feels. Time for me to release it into the wild and finally go read what everyone else has to say!

Fifth after the short program.

Ten points behind first place.

_One point deduction for a late start._

Yuzuru is devastated.

Things had been going so well since he’d gotten to Helsinki: his skates arrived –not to be taken for granted, considering-, he liked the ice in the main rink, his body was feeling great. The problem with the quad salchow combination was still rearing its head now and then, but he was determined to push through.

It still wasn’t enough, when it counted. And this time, no emergency jumps were going to save him from failure.

The deduction for the late start was the last nail in the coffin. Such a stupid mistake.

He’s gone through the remainder of his time in the arena after the competition having to bite back tears, because of course everyone wants to talk to him, but he doesn’t want to bleed his regret and shame all over in public. The press, other skaters, his coaches: most have a kind word for him, a pep talk or a reassuring touch, all to try and pull him up, get him to see the bright side.

In Yuzuru’s eyes, there’s no bright side to find.

The more he thinks about it, the more oppressing the feeling of dread in his chest becomes. He feels like he’s been here before, like it’s Boston all over again. The hope, the hype. The overwhelming desire for the perfect skate, the belief of being capable.

Then, the fall from grace.

He doesn’t even have the excuse of injury, this time.

He hides in his room when they get back to the hotel, shrugging off Tracy’s comforting touch and Brian’s worry with a smile that feels painful on his face. Javier’s presence is like a thick fog in the corner of his eye. He doesn’t look at him, his name and score still burned in the back of his eyelids; it hurts too much.

Yuzuru manages to hold it mostly together until his mom comes after he skips dinner, but the moment Yumi gets one look at him and opens her arms, he’s gone. He cries bitterly on his mother’s shoulder as she holds him, petting his hair and murmuring reassurances in his ear, and prays her gentle touch is enough to keep him from shaking apart.

“What do I do now, mom?”

“What we always do, love: you get up, you try again.”

“What does it matter? It’s over.”

“Listen,” she grabs his face between her small hands, thumbs brushing away the tears. “It’s never over until it’s done.” He shakes his head, trying to get away from the touch but she holds on, her steel core showing in her gaze. “I mean it. You won’t know if it’s possible until you try, yes? Isn’t that what you always say?”

“I don’t think I can do it. I don’t have the strength.”

“Then you get your strength from us.” Yumi pulls him in towards her chest again, running a comforting touch up and down his back. “Did you feel it, love? The support of the people when you were on the ice.”

Yuzuru thinks back on his memories, tries to see past the botched combination that keeps replaying over and over in his head like a broken record.

He does remember. Before he got his scores and the world crashed around him, when he still thought the mistake was salvageable with a great performance: the approving roar of the crowd, their ecstatic faces when he skated by, swift and cracking like a lightning bolt. The joy in the air.

“Yes.”

“There’re all these people out there who still believe in you, who will still support you every time. You just have to try, okay?”

He looks her in the eye, sniffling and still drying his tears, but nods. Yumi smiles.

“Good boy.”

They call for room service and eat something together, even if in Yuzuru’s case it’s only so little as to not go to sleep on an empty stomach. He has no appetite, but tries for his mom and Yumi seems pleased. They’re almost done when his phone buzzes. He startles, but otherwise remains where he is: he knows who it is without having to look at the screen.

His mother does look, though.

“Yuzu, have you talked with Javier yet?” When there’s no forthcoming answer from him, her tone gets reproachful. “I’m sure he’s worried, too.”

His shoulders go up and he hunches his back in response, but stubbornly refuses to yield. “I don’t care.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

There’s a pause.

“I can’t look at him without seeing my failure, mom. And it hurts.”

Yumi sighs, reaches for his hand in support.

“I know it must be difficult, love. But you’re punishing him for something that is not his fault.”

“You think I don’t know that?” the tears come again, unbidden, and Yuzuru makes a frustrated grimace at his inability to cope. “That hurts, too. But I can’t. Not yet.”

“Okay. As long as you know.” She raises a hand to his hair, pushes his bangs out of his face to look him in the eye. “You take your time, rest, and we’ll see how it goes tomorrow, yes?”

Yuzuru just nods, drying his eyes and accompanying her to the door when she rises to leave.

“You might not believe it now, but you are stronger than this.”

“How do you know?”

Yumi smiles at him one last time, drops a kiss on his temple. “Because you’re my child. And I’m your mother.”

Yuzuru doesn’t sleep much and the tears still come, but he gets through the night. And in the morning, he wakes up and goes down to breakfast before training.

He’s far from his best, but it’s a step in the right direction.

 

* * *

 

It’s the day after the short program. Javier’s comfortably in the lead after he managed to -finally- skate _Malagueña_ clean, his score right on the heels of Yuzuru’s world record. Many are already giving away the title to him, after such a performance. By all accounts, he should be over the moon.

Instead, he and all their team are worrying over Yuzuru.

“Javi,” Brian takes him aside when morning practice is over, his eyes still following the way his other pupil walks away with Tracy, downcast and shuffling his feet. “Have you talked to him?”

“I’ve tried.” Javier puts his jacket on forcefully, frustrated. “He’s not exactly cooperating.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. You’ve probably seen more of him than me since yesterday, he’s been avoiding me like the plague.”

“I did have a long talk with him, after… Well, after everything,” Brian sighs. “I’m not foolish enough to believe it fixed things completely, but I though he was on the up.”

Javier remembers sharply how Yuzuru looked when he saw him for the first time today: tired, with a pasted on smile on his face that couldn’t hide the telltale red tinge of his eyes.

Though he knows it wouldn’t be the first time, the thought of Yuzuru alone, crying himself to sleep still hurts too much to dwell on when he’s not allowed to help.

“He’s being too hard on himself, isn’t he?”

“In true Yuzu fashion. That’s why I was hoping he might turn to you.”

“No such luck.” Javier looks down to his feet, his voice small. “He’s shutting me out completely, Brian.”

His coach puts an arm around his shoulders, shakes him a bit while starting to walk them towards the exit. “Give him time. He’ll come around, you’ll see. He always does.”

“What happens if he doesn’t come around in time?”

Brian’s expression darkens. “Let’s hope we don’t have to cross that bridge.”

\---

He’s skipping afternoon practice to rest for the free tomorrow, so Javier’s got all evening to spend in his room, on his own, trying not to think too much about either Yuzuru –who still hasn’t replied to any of his texts, though he knows they’ve been read- or all the expectations weighting on his back after the short program –he’s never been on the lead before the free, is used to being the underdog and not a favourite-.

Needless to say, it’s not been enjoyable.

He’s about to try for a nap again when his phone finally buzzes on the nightstand. He almost falls off the bed in his sudden haste to get to it, but when he unlocks the screen and sees it’s just Brian he has to keep down the desire to chuck it into a wall.

Frustration momentarily abated, he opens the text because it is from his coach, he’s at a competition and it could be important.

_Expect a visitor soon. I gave her you room number._

Javier’s still processing this information when there’s a knock on his door. He does a double-take, then gets up and goes to open it.

“Hello, Javier.”

Yuzuru’s mom is at his door.

His brain does a mini-panic dance because he’s been lazing around since lunch, probably looks very rumpled and is pretty sure he left this morning’s training clothes in a puddle by the closet.

None of this is ideal when _Yuzuru’s mom is at his door_.

“Um. Hello.”

There’s a pause where she’s just watching him, seemingly amused by his deer-in-headlights look. Then, she gestures with a hand towards the room and Javier finally snaps aware.

“Of course, sorry! Come in, please.” He shuts the door after, then turns to face her.

Yumi looks tired, if serene. There’re subtle bags under her eyes, but she still smiles softly while she waits for him to ask the question they both know is coming.

“Is Yuzu okay?”

Her eyes turn mournful, and she shakes her head. “No. Very angry. Very sad.”

Javier laments his nonexistent Japanese and her very little English. They’re used to having Yuzuru with them as an interpreter, to bridge the gap and make conversations less awkward. There’s so many things he wants to ask, many things she’d probably tell him if she could, but those stay silent, lost in translation.

She finally walks up to him, a familiar, steely determination in her eyes, and hands him a keycard.

“For you.”

“Is this Yuzuru’s?”

Yumi nods. “You talk. He… “ She frowns,  clearly trying to find the right word. She mumbles under her breath in Japanese, then makes a serious face, waving a hand near her temple.

“…He’s being stubborn?”

“Yes!” Her smile is bright for a second. “You help.”

“I’ll try.” He bows, like he’s seen Yuzuru do so many times that it’s already engraved in his mind. “Thank you, Yumi.”

She pats him on the shoulder, once, before stepping back again. “Good man.”

They share a last smile, finding in the other that same care for the person that brought them together. Then, she walks around him and leaves, letting the door fall shut softly behind her.

Javier stands there for a moment, looking down at the piece of plastic in his hand: such a little thing, to carry this much meaning. He closes his fingers tightly over it.

He’s got work to do.

\---

He’s not about to barge in on Yuzuru though, so Javier tries knocking first. When there’s no response, he looks up and down the hotel hallway and prays that no one’s going to appear while he does this.

“Yuzu, it’s me.” Nothing. He takes a calming breath. “I know you’re in there. Please, just open the door.”

Still silence. Time to bring out the big guns.

“Your mom gave me a keycard, you know. I’m just being polite.”

Finally, a noise. Then, “she don’t!”

“Wanna bet?”

More noise. At last, the door opens to show Yuzuru glaring at him, evidently displeased. Javier notes that his eyes are no longer red-rimmed though, which is a good sign: if he’s more angry than sad, he can work with that.

Javier holds up the keycard between two fingers, then pushes through to the room when the other tries to make a grab for it. He makes a quick, compulsory scan of the place while Yuzuru shuts the door: it’s tidy, as usual, and he’s relieved to see that Pooh-san still has right of place on the bedside table.

The laptop, though, is suspiciously shut and resting on the bed, so Javier goes and lifts the screen. He’s not surprised to see a still of Yuzuru’s short program. He sighs.

“Why were you watching this?”

Yuzuru snaps it shut again, but doesn’t look at him when he answers. “I make mistake. I watch and learn, so it don’t happen again.”

“That’s fine, for later. But you shouldn’t be doing this to yourself now.”

“I do what I have to.”

“No. It’s just punishment, at this point.”

Yuzuru turns blazing eyes on him. “What do you know? You do perfect.”

“Yes, I do perfect,” Javier huffs in response. “This one time. How many more times do I make mistakes? ‘Perfect’ is not realistic, Yuzu. You know this.”

“People expect perfect.”

“Well, those people know nothing of what it takes to do what we do. And there’re so many more people who support you, regardless of mistakes. Does that count for nothing?”

The fire goes out from Yuzuru’s eyes, his shoulders visibly deflating. His voice is small when he answers. “It count. A lot.”

Javier sighs, resigned.

“Look, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t want to be with me right now.” The other opens his mouth, but Javier raises a hand between them before he can be interrupted. “That’s fine, you don’t need to explain yourself; I assume you’ve got your reasons. I just want you to know that you have my support if you want it, like everybody else’s.”

“Javi-“

“We’re all rooting for you, okay? I know you will go out there tomorrow and try your best. No one could ask more than that.”

Yuzuru watches him silently when he dares take a step closer, putting a hand on the side of his face and leaving a kiss on the opposite temple. Before drawing back, Javier puts two keycards in the other’s palm.

“I’m not going to invade your privacy anymore, so there’s your card. The other one’s mine: come at any time, if you need it, for whatever reason. We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Yuzuru nods, then looks at him from underneath his hair and the shine in his eyes might be tears or something else entirely. “Okay.”

“Okay, then.”

Javier gives him one last, long look before leaving. He doesn’t turn back once.

\---

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sleeping or what hour it is when something moving in his periphery wakes Javier up. He stirs, blinking slowly in the darkness. Must be the middle of the night, or something.

“Shhh, It’s fine.” Soothing, familiar. His head turns instinctively towards the voice.

“Yuzu?”

“Yes.” Another body burrows under one of his arms, close to his side. “Sleep now.”

“You came.”

“Can’t sleep. Here is better.”

“I’m glad.”

Javier drags him close, buries his nose in soft hair and smiles, half-asleep already.

Very glad.

 

* * *

 

The day of the free skate dawns early for Yuzuru. He stops his alarm before it sounds: he did manage to sleep some, after all, but he’s been awake for a while. He sits on the bed, hugging his knees and resting his back against the headboard, and finds himself looking down at a still sleeping Javier.

He looks so peaceful, so at ease. Yuzuru envies him for it.

He doesn’t regret finally giving in to his need for comfort and sneaking in last night, but is not sure he wants to face the consequences. Talking with Javier now, while his weakness is still so raw and unhidden, isn’t an appealing prospect. He still finds himself reaching for him, though, one of his hands playing with the other’s hair.

It’s not so painful now, looking at him. Here, in the soft light of morning, lying beneath the same sheets as Yuzuru, the Spaniard doesn’t look like his rival, like the man who is so many points above him in the scoreboard and he desperately wants to beat; he just looks like Javi, his partner, who makes him laugh and gives him a hand up every time he falls.

He’s been living with this dichotomy for years, yet it still catches him off guard sometimes.

Yuzuru has no bravery to spare on talking this day, though; he needs all of it to attempt what he wants to accomplish later. He came because he needed the company and reassurance, because Javier told him his door was always open for him. And it’s worked; his mood’s finally starting to shift from deeply depressed and angry to a tentative contemplation.

It doesn’t look impossible anymore: he’s done it before, he can do it again. There’re so many people who believe that, maybe it’s time he started to believe it himself.

There’s a soft smile on his lips when he bends down, leaves a kiss next to one of Javier’s closed eyelids and murmurs his thanks in Japanese. Then, he silently gathers his things and leaves.

He’s got to make up for lost time.

When he meets with his mom for breakfast and greets her with a genuine smile, the look of relief in her face is the best start.

\---

The moment of truth comes and Yuzuru finds himself uncaring of the judges, of his competitors, of the deep regret he’s been carrying inside since the short program.

He takes to the ice for the free skate and his mind is finally clear, sharp. Only one thought permeates everything.

No more mistakes.

He falls in the warm-up after a triple axel and can feel the worried rush of breath from the crowd, but he just stands back up and skates away. There’s an eerie sort of calm, an intensity of concentration in him that just won’t be shaken. It’s okay if he falls now: he won’t when it counts.

He’ll make sure of it.

Brian senses his mood, and the worried look from yesterday is gone from his face when Yuzuru returns to the boards for his send-off before they even call his name. No one mentions the deduction, but it’s on everyone’s minds: that was a silly mistake and it won’t happen again.

“Okay. You’re ready. You can do it.”

He allows himself one side glance to check Pooh-san is in its place this time. “I know.”

“Good. Good luck out there.”

They shake hands as usual, then Yuzuru squats and says a last prayer to whomever may listen before pushing off.

It feels like he’s going to war, but he relishes the feeling. After all, it’s served him well before.

The music starts, and Yuzuru Hanyu unleashes himself on the ice.

He knows this program. Has spent countless hours studying it, sweating on it; measuring every jump and every breath, timing everything until it all mixed with the music seamlessly. It has also been the one to bring doubt to his mind, running himself in circles wondering if he wasn’t being too stubborn, if he should just admit defeat and submit to change.

The final verdict hangs on this performance.

He opens with the quad loop, his first challenge of the season. He doesn’t regret pushing to add it: it’s got its mileage, and now feels trustworthy. He lands it, lets it go.

The quad salchow is next. Salchow was Javier’s jump, and one of the reasons Yuzuru moved away from Japan in the first place. It’s temperamental, coming back to haunt him when he thought he had finally mastered it. On its own though, it flows. He moves on.

He dances, reaches for something he can almost see at the end of it all. Then, triple flip: so much time spent on it, correcting his edge. It feels like an old friend, now.

Everyone in the arena seems to know what comes next.

Yuzuru thunders down the rink, gaining speed. He feels the sudden hush of the crowd, waiting with bated breath. He’s had the desire to do the same at this point many times before, but today’s not a day for letting himself be intimidated. Today, he gathers his courage and attacks the jump.

Quad salchow. Triple toe.

He breathes out when he lands, a rush that gets lost in the answering cheer of the crowd.

It’s not over yet, but he can feel his confidence growing with each second that passes; each element executed perfectly, carved precisely on the ice. Quad toe. Old, reliable triple axel. He gains momentum as he goes, the rush of it coursing through him like a wave. He’s tiring, but keeps going out of sheer force of will: he’s not going to fail.

 _He can do it_. This time for sure.

He lets himself be consumed by the fire that rages inside of him, releasing it all when he goes for the Ina Bauer, feeling the returning echo of it as the crowd goes wild.

Triple lutz. Then the last spin.

Yuzuru raises his hand to the sky, finger extended, and feels like he’s too big for his skin, bursting at the seams. The challenge burns in his gaze when he opens his arms to the world one last time, proud and powerful.

He’s done with chasing. Let everybody else know what he is capable of, and let them come to him if they dare.

 

* * *

 

The approving roar of the crowd reaches a huge crescendo, so encompassing even the foundations of the venue seem to shake. Deep into its bowels, in the warm-up section, Javier feels the wave of energy rush over him, simmering over his skin, and knows. Without even walking over to the screens showing a view of the ice, he knows.

He’s familiar with Yuzuru’s supernova. He doesn’t need to look to know what has happened.

“Oh, boy” Patrick’s whistle and soft exclamation startles him out of his staring at the wall. The Canadian notices this, turns to look at him. “We have our work cut out for us, eh? Same old, same old.”

Javier tries to smile, isn’t sure how well he does. “Yeah. Same old.”

The other must sense that something is amiss, maybe finds something in his gaze he can relate to. When Patrick grips his shoulder, sharing a nod and a grim look of understanding before letting him go and going back to his own warm-up, Javier doesn’t know how to react.

He turns around, gets back to what he was doing, stretching to keep his body limber for what’s to come. If his mind is all fuzzy, the clear focus of before starting to fray and sizzle at the edges, it’s just the normal edginess of competition.

It must be.

His coaches come back not too long after, glowing with pride, unable to hide their happiness. Brian gets stopped by a group of giddy reporters and lags behind, but Tracy takes one look at him from across the room and hurries up to him, expression soft.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, that’s just not possible and you’re going to have to deal.” Javier does laugh at that, a true one, dropping his head and leaning into the contact when she puts a hand on his upper arm. Tracy’s tone softens. “You know, it’s natural to be nervous. No shame in it.”

“I know.”

“You’ve got your training, you’ve worked hard to get here. And whatever the others do, it’s still on you.”

Instead of being reassured, Javier stiffens at that. He’s very aware that it all balances on his own performance; scarily, painfully aware, like he’s never been before. “I know.”

Tracy sighs when she tries to catch his gaze and fails, knows she won’t be able to get anything more from him while he’s like this. She gives him a last pat before letting her hand drop. “Okay, then. Just know that we’re here for you if you need us.”

Javier goes back to his exercises, puts in his earbuds and just nods to Brian when he comes to check on him. In an effort to drown out the noise, he puts his walls up and isolates himself from the world, from the reality of what’s happening on the ice and buzzing in the air. Of what’s already happened and what it means.

It backfires.

At the boards, while Brian gives his last words of encouragement, it all feels so different from just a couple days ago, when he took the ice for the short program. The crowd’s still fired up from Shoma’s performance, the announcer calling out a huge score that rings in his ears while he gets on the ice.

He knows what he has to do, just like the day of the short. But, unlike then, the picture in his mind of what that looks like is all blurry, undefined and seemingly out of reach.

This time, the echo of the crowd makes him feel like he’s struggling underwater, instead of firing him up. The knowledge of being the defending champion weighs heavily on his shoulders: for the first time, he feels like he has everything to lose.

The pressure inside his head makes all his walls cave in, and he falls.

\---

Truth is, Javier’s always known he was living on borrowed time.

It’s not like he thinks himself undeserving of what he has achieved, nothing like that. He’s worked hard, harder than he believed himself capable of, and has gone much further than his childhood dreams could even hope to imagine. But with time and experience he’s become aware of himself, of his strengths and his shortcomings. He knows what he can do, but also where his limits are.

Then there’s Yuzuru, who seems to have none of those.

Javier knows him, too; has been allowed to look deeply, intimately inside. Knows that there’s something more to him that what you can train on the ice, something intangible that makes him who he is and, when sparked, puts him beyond everyone else’s reach.

And thus, though he was unbelievably happy and proud of himself at his past wins, though they were achieved fairly through effort, dedication and no small amount of pain, deep inside he was just waiting for Yuzuru to take it all back.

He’s been World Champion twice: he had it, it was his and no one can take that away from him now. But he also felt he was holding onto the title as a beloved guardian, trusted to keep it safe until it was time for the true king to ascend to his rightful place again.

When his free skate ends, Javier is disappointed with himself for not doing his best, for letting down the people who were rooting for him to pull another miracle out of his sleeve. His body aches when he takes his final bows on the ice, and there’s a bittersweet taste in his mouth while he waits beside his coaches for the score.

Javier looks up at the jumbotron to see the final results. He doesn’t make the podium by a couple of points and it hurts to leave without a medal for the first time in so many years, but he knows he’s only got himself to blame. He wishes the atmosphere hadn’t gotten to him, that he could’ve put on a better performance; a more dignified farewell from the champion who’s passing on his crown.

He’s still looking when the image cuts off to show the green room and Yuzuru happily making faces at the camera. Brian snorts beside him, and even Javier can’t help but feel the corners of his mouth pulling up.

There’s a kind of relief in that, of weight sliding off his shoulders as his mind finally clears again. He feels Tracy’s hand on his knee, soothing.

“Come on, let’s go. It’s done, now.”

Javier gets up from the Kiss & Cry as the lights go down for the medal ceremony, and though he’s not happy, there’s a lightness in his heart that won’t quit.

Tracy’s right. It is done. Finally over.

And if it’s _him_ , he can have it.

When Yuzuru comes bouncing through the tunnel in search of them before he has to get back on the ice for his medal, Javier opens his arms for him without hesitation, hugging him close to his body and taking comfort in the knowledge that this, at least, is still his to have. Unchanged by the circumstances, bigger than any competition.

Yuzuru trembles against him, though, the boundless happiness of moments before subdued in his presence. He knows what it is to be in Javier’s position, and while he craves the closeness, he is afraid of intruding. The Spaniard won’t have any of that.

“I told you last year, right? Remember?” Yuzuru nuzzles his face on Javier’s neck at that, hiding the intimacy of the moment from the world, but rubbing the other’s back in acknowledgement. “You worked hard, you can get it.”

Javier draws back to look him in the eye, to drive the point home. He wants no pity, especially from Yuzuru, who should be celebrating and not worrying about him. His hand stays on the other’s neck, his thumb moving softly over his cheek as he smiles encouragingly.

“Alright?”

Yuzuru smiles then, bright as the sun, and goes back for another hug. Still silent, but leaving an inconspicuous kiss beneath Javier’s ear that speaks volumes.

When he lets go to go after Brian and Tracy, Javier can only look back on him fondly for a long moment before turning around and leaving the arena.

His job here is done; now, he has time to lick his wounds and the future to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

Yuzuru is pretty much overwhelmed.

He’s been going through wild ups and downs ever since he got off the ice after his free skate, and even though the competition is over and done with now, the result set in stone and his victory final, he still has all this excited energy boiling inside that he doesn’t know what to do with.

The exchange with Javier had put a lid on that for a while, given him back perspective and that bit of calm in the middle of the vortex of things that keep happening around him. Yuzuru carried that with him when he got back on the ice to receive his medal, enjoying the moment as the reward to all his tenacity and work that it was, proud, and happy, and relieved.

Now though, tiredness weighs him down; he goes from one interview to the other, sees all the excitement around him, and fears he’s about to implode. He’s the man of the hour, everybody wants to talk to him, but he feels like he could lose his true self in between all these pictures other people keep trying to paint of him, if he’s not careful.

At one moment, he just starts waiting for it to be over so he can go lock himself away for a bit to deal with it all in peace.

He’s making his way through the mixed zone when he catches sight of Javier again. The Spaniard is talking to a handful of reporters, all of them much more subdued in mood than what Yuzuru’s been handling, which is understandable. The former champion cuts a solemn figure, his shoulders a bit drawn inwards but his head still held high, his back straight. Unbroken.

Yuzuru knows where to look, though; sees the sadness in his eyes, the disappointment in his down-curved mouth. The tension on his brow and his fingers, hands clutched together behind his back, where they are hidden from most.

It makes Yuzuru’s heart seize in his chest, everything else falling away: Javier was made for laughs and sunshine, and should never look like that. He pauses for a second, his own fingers toying with the medal around his neck, and decides.

He’s got more than enough happiness inside for them both.

“Javi!”

The Spaniard startles at his call, looks at him from across the mixed zone. He’s not the only one: Yuzuru’s very aware of the cameras and the eyes following his every movement while he strides toward the other, but doesn’t care. He only cares about his partner, remembering how Javier’s always been there for him when the situation was reversed, how his unwavering support and reassurances had sometimes been one of the only things keeping Yuzuru afloat.

Yuzuru wants to make sure Javier knows he can have the same from him.

So this time he goes all out; smiles brightly, let’s all the emotions beneath his ribs untangle themselves and flow outwards, focused on reaching for this special person that means so much to him.

“Medal is yours, too” he grabs the ribbon hanging on his neck with both hands, takes it off and then puts it ceremoniously on a surprised Javier, leaving one palm over the metal and patting the other’s chest. “I can’t win it without you.”

Javier’s expression softens, incredibly fond. “Yuzu…”

He throws both arms over the Spaniard’s shoulders, pulling himself up and close. Javier hugs him back, laughing in his ear. If Yuzuru’s answering laugh sounds a bit watery, no one’s going to blame him after the day he’s had.

They part ways when the cheers around remind them they’re not actually alone. Yuzuru disguises a sniff by scratching his nose, then results back to joking to lighten the mood. “Okay, you give back now.” He gestures imperiously to Javier’s chest.

Everyone laughs, Javier’s eyes twinkle and Yuzuru couldn’t be happier. “Oh, but I thought this was mine too?”

“I lie. I win so is mine.”

Javier’s gaze drops to his chest, where his fingers are fiddling with the ribbon. There’s a pause, and Yuzuru fears for a moment that he’s gone too far, dug too hard into a wound that’s not yet closed. A feeling of dread suddenly grips his chest and he’s about to start apologizing, damn the onlookers, when the other takes the medal off, reaches for his hand and drops it onto his palm. The brown eyes are warm when they meet his again, proud.

“So you did. Well deserved, too.”

At that, Yuzuru lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, smiling with relief when he realizes there are no hard feelings to find in the other’s gaze. Someone calls out to them, the moment broken, and reality sets in once more. The questions come again, with renewed fervor sparked by their interactions just now, but Yuzuru feels himself settle, balance restored inside.

Javier’s hand stays on the small of his back, hidden away from sight; a constant point of warmth and support until Yuzuru has to leave him behind for the press conference.

\---

That night, back at the hotel after all his compromises as the new and returning World Champion are over and done with, Yuzuru wrestles with himself about going to Javier’s room or not.

They’ve both had all evening to come to terms with their new situation and their last interaction seemed fine; but that was hours ago, in front of other people, and Yuzuru knows very well the kind of wreckage defeat and disappointment can leave behind when left to fester. Remembers how he himself felt after the short program, how he didn’t blame Javier for his misfortunes and failings, but it still hurt too much to be with him at that point.

Remembers how the Spaniard had been nothing but supportive and still Yuzuru had run away from him, hiding away his shame where no one would be witness to it.

He doesn’t want Javier to feel alone, like he has to pull through this rough time on his own, with no one to help carry the burden. He also doesn’t want to impose on his solitude if he needs it, doesn’t want to become the living, breathing, bitter reminder of what the other’s lost.

Thus, the internal wrestling.

He spends some time studying his short program, tries to keep his brain occupied with numbers, and images, and plans. When that fails to engage, he paces around his room and does some easy stretches, feeling the burn and release of well-worked muscle. After he’s done and checks his phone only to see that the hour is still too young to excuse his giving up on the thought, Yuzuru sends one last look to Pooh-san on the bedside table for courage and settles for the obvious.

Thing is, he knows what he wants to do. He wants to go. Not only for Javier, but also for himself: he’s happy he’s won, and he wants to share that with his partner.

The Spaniard can always say no.

Grabbing his phone and his keycard, he leaves the room and runs up the single flight of stairs to the other’s floor. He pauses when he gets to the door, considering his options: he does have a keycard to Javier’s room and, supposedly, standing permission to get in whenever he wants.

He chooses to knock, just in case. After he’s done so he panics for a second, thinking that maybe the other is asleep or that he really doesn’t want to see him, that he should have done the logical thing and contacted him via phone instead of just showing up unannounced.

His brain begins running itself in circles, and he freezes like a deer in headlights when the door finally opens. Javier gets one look at his startled face and shakes his head, smiling softly.

“Why are you knocking?”

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The Spaniard looks amused. Yuzuru deflates a little in relief.

“Don’t want to assume.”

Javier sighs at that but steps back, unblocking the door. “Just come in.”

Yuzuru does. The moment he hears it click shut, though, his good intentions disintegrate. He turns around to face the other and reaches inevitably for him, drawn like a magnet, hands on his hair and lips desperate on Javier’s. The Spaniard just rests his hands on his waist, waits for him to settle, lets him take what he wants.

Yuzuru finally steps back, hands wringing together at his front, teeth firmly latched onto his bottom lip, looking ashamed at his outburst. “Sorry. I should ask before I do that.”

“It’s fine.”

“But I don’t know if you want that now.”

“Yuzuru. Look at me.” The tone is soft, loving, and Yuzuru can’t help but obey. Javier’s expression is warm when he lifts his head and meets it. “What do I always tell you about that?”

“That you always want me.”

“Exactly.” A hand rises to Yuzuru’s face, the thumb a caress over his cheekbone. It reminds him of earlier in the day, when the light was low in the arena and the moment felt intimate even in the middle of a crowd. “I always want you. Don’t doubt that.”

“But maybe you think that is my fault you lose.” Yuzuru grabs the other’s wrist, leans into the contact. Closes his eyes and lets out that single thought that just won’t leave his brain. “Maybe I hurt you and you don’t want to see me now.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Javier’s the one who brings them together this time, arms going around Yuzuru and bringing his head to rest on his shoulder. Yuzuru goes easily, closes his eyes tightly at the feeling of hands in his hair, on his neck, petting soothingly. “Don’t overthink things. My loss is only on me, it’s my own fault. I am disappointed, I won’t lie, but it has nothing to do with you.”

Yuzuru puts his hands on Javier’s waist, lets himself grip the material of the other’s shirt tightly in his fingers. “Really?”

“Really. In fact,” the Spaniard brings his head up between his hands, looks at him with a small smile “knowing that you’re happy helps the most. That way, not everything is bad.”

Yuzuru feels his throat tighten, his eyes threatening to water. He closes them and kisses Javier again until it passes, until breathing becomes easy again.

“I don’t know how to be on this side,” he says into the small space between their lips afterwards, foreheads touching. “You make it look easy, these two years. It is not.”

“You just think too much. You need to stop doing that.” Javier taps a finger to Yuzuru’s temple and he giggles, because it’s true. “And I know it’s easier said than done and you can’t just shut off that big brain of yours, but. If you’re happy, let yourself be happy and don’t worry about me. You deserve that.”

“Okay. I try to do that.”

“Good.”

“But is it bad that I want you to be happy with me?”

“No. It’s not bad.” Yuzuru feels a hand brushing aside his bangs, then a lingering kiss in the middle of his forehead. He shivers. “But you do have to understand that it is also okay than I’m sad, and that you can’t make it go away.”

Yuzuru Hanyu does not like it when people tell him he can’t do something. But Javier is not people, and he still remembers how it felt, being in the place his partner is now.

Sometimes you win; others, you lose. Life goes on for everyone either way, and the champion is familiar enough with defeat to admit to it in the face of reality.

“Okay.” He kisses the other again, softly, just a brush of lips this time. Giving and taking comfort equally. “I can stay here?”

“Of course. Though I don’t know if I’ll be good company tonight.”

“Don’t matter. I forgive you.”

Javier laughs. Yuzuru beams at him.

“Well, thank god for that.” The Spaniard lets him go, looks him up and down, then fixes on his face. “You didn’t bring anything with you.”

“No.”

Javier raises his eyebrows at him, half knowing, half resigned. “You want one of my shirts, don’t you?”

Yuzuru’s grin grows. “Yes, please.”

“Of course you do. The blue one, right?”

“ _Hai~_!”

When said shirt gets thrown in his face while Javier grumbles something under his breath in Spanish and goes back to readying himself for bed, Yuzuru can only giggle and hold the soft material under his nose, inhaling deeply. He might not yet know how to do this, how to be the person the other needs right now, but he’s a fast learner and he doesn’t feel unsure anymore.

He’s got time.

\---

His alarm wakes him up the next morning, and Yuzuru feels like it’s way too soon for the world to expect him to be functional, considering. He shuts it down quickly, burrows back down into the sheets and Javier’s warmth beside him. Then, it dawns on him. Suddenly.

He did it. Against all odds.

He won.

A giddy feeling bubbles in his chest, and he goes from sleepy to fully awake as fast as he ever has. He turns towards Javier, who sleeps on completely unaware of the brimming amount of energy barely contained in the body next to his.

Yuzuru needs an outlet for all of it. And he wants him.

Sliding his hand under Javier’s shirt, he drags himself flush to the other’s side, laying his head on the Spaniard’s shoulder and stretching his neck to leave small, wet kisses under his jaw.

“Javi…” He gets an incoherent mumble in response and an arm tightening around his back. “Come on, don’t be lazy.” He bites, trying for a bigger reaction. “Wake up.”

“Mmm, Yuzu...” Javier’s eyes slit open, fixing on him quickly. Yuzuru lifts himself a little to give the other a kiss on the corner of the lips, which gets sleepily returned. “Why are you even awake…?”

“Alarm. Gala practice this morning, remember?”

“Ugh. Right.” He stretches, something cracking in his back, before letting himself fall back onto the mattress. Then, he shoots a resigned look the other’s way, signaling for him to move. Yuzuru goes happily, straddling his hips and curling forward on his chest, feeling strong arms come up around him securely. “You didn’t wake me up for that, though. Did you?”

A giggle, followed by a bite to his collarbone where the material of the shirt’s stretched enough for the skin to show. “No.”

“I can tell.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you don’t usually attack my neck like this in the mornings unless you want something. And I doubt it has anything to do with the gala.”

“Javi is so smart. I’m impressed.” Yuzuru’s having fun. There was an edge yesterday to Javier’s voice, but it seems to have disappeared for now and there’s only warmth around them. He feels comfortable, loose-limbed and playful, and he wants to enjoy the moment.

He raises himself on hands and knees above the other, moves up his body until he can reach down to kiss Javier on the lips, a hand tangling in brown curls.

“See? You do things like that and it gives you away.”

“Mmm.” Yuzuru rights himself, sits back on Javier’s hips. He rests his hands on the edge on the other’s shirt, playing impatiently with the fabric. But he does check back with a look from underneath messy bangs. “Is okay?”

Javier rubs a hand up his thigh, smiles reassuringly. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

Yuzuru smiles back, tugging off both their shirts hastily before diving down for an open mouthed kiss, his nails dragging over the twitching muscle at Javier’s middle while his hips start an undulating rhythm of their own.

Javier groans at the friction, tightens a hand in the other’s dark bangs. “Okay. You’re definitely up, alright.”

Yuzuru laughs against the corner of his lips. “Well. I want you.”

“And what does the Champion want?”

He leans up again, making sure to sit over Javier’s groin and wiggle a bit more than necessary. His palms stay on the Spaniard’s chest, kneading softly. “You give me prize?”

“I don’t know. Should I?” Javier puts his hands on the other’s waist, rubbing up and down. When Yuzuru’s grin grows at his joking tone he pinches him in the side, amused at the indignant yelp he gets in response. “I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” Yuzuru bats away the offending hands that are now leaning more towards tickling than caressing, trying and failing to contain his mirth. “I won!”

“So you did, yes. But then you go and wake poor, tired little old me-“

“Javi!”

“-Just for your own amusement. Terrible, really. So not fit for a Champion.”

Yuzuru falls back down on the other’s chest, breathless and laughing like a loon. “You kill the mood.”

Javier’s answering sigh ruffles the hair on top of his head. “Guess I did. We don’t have time for that kind of rewards, anyway. And we still have to skate.”

“Gala?”

“Gala.” Yuzuru stops wriggling when he feels fingers softly drawing patterns on his back. He lets his body relax, nuzzles into the warmth of the other and feels stupidly happy to be there. “I’ll make it up to you later, if you want.”

“I want. Don’t let you forget”

Javier laughs. “Okay.”

They stay like that for a bit, Yuzuru feeling a sheet of stability and calm drape over him for the first time since the fatidic short program. Javier has that kind of effect on him, his steadfast presence helping to slow Yuzuru’s thought process to more manageable levels. There’s no rush, no pressure in this place they’ve built between them; he doesn’t need to be perfect, for the other has seen and knows of all his flaws. Javier is a safe haven, and Yuzuru only hopes he can be the same for him in return.

“Javi…”

“Mmm?”

Yuzuru crosses his arms on the other’s chest, rests his chin there and looks at the Spaniard.

“I still be happy if you won.”

Javier’s smile dims, his eyes going a bit sad. He brings a hand back to brush Yuzuru’s bangs away from his forehead and leaves it there on its usual place on the other’s neck. “No, you wouldn’t. Not this time. You wanted it too much.”

Yuzuru feels his heart throb painfully in his chest. He wants to rally against the notion, the idea that Javier could believe him to be that selfish, but the words don’t come out, stranded in his throat.

He knows, deep inside. He knows that it’s true.

“Javi-“

The Spaniard clears his throat, resettles their weight on the bed. “It’s fine, Yuzu. I’ve told you many times. You can have it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know you don’t do it on purpose, it just can’t be helped.” Javier runs his fingers on Yuzuru’s face, mapping it with the soft touch of fingertips. Yuzuru’s eyes close at the feeling as he releases the breath that was stuck on his chest. “You work so hard, I see it everyday. It’s normal to want to have that rewarded.”

“But you work hard, too.”

“Yes. I do.” Yuzuru feels a thumb caressing over his lips, drawing the shape of them over and over. He opens his eyes to find this faraway look on Javier’s face, resigned and yet, somehow, relieved. “But I’m not you. No one can do the things you do. And so it’s fine for me to give you back the crown.”

Yuzuru looks at Javier and wonders, not for the first time, how a heart so big can fit into this one man. How he got so lucky to be allowed in it, to take a piece of it with him everywhere he goes. He hasn’t found an answer, yet, but is still so glad that it happened.

“I’m not sure I understand. But I love you.”

Javier seems to startle out of his thoughts at that, looks him in the eye and smiles, big and true.

“That’s enough for me.”

They settle things with one last, lingering kiss, like a promise.

They’ll be alright.

 

* * *

 

Javier finds himself laughing all the way back to the locker room after the gala, followed by a Yuzuru that is clearly still too ashamed to actually go up to him and hit him for it and a Misha that’s plainly amused at their antics.

“Javi! Stop making fun of me!”

“But your little glide of shame was so cute. I think I saw a bunch of ladies in the crowd about to pass out.”

“They really were. I thought the ambulance was going to be used.”

“Not you too,” Misha just shrugs at the look of betrayal that Yuzuru sends his way before rounding back on Javier. “I was really embarrassed!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be doing crazy stunts at the end of a competition week when you’re on your last legs, then.”

“Zhenya ask me to jump with her. Not polite to say no.”

“Oooh, so it was done to impress the girls,” Javier winks and nudges Misha, who throws back his head and laughs. “I see how it is. Should I be worried?”

Yuzuru looks at him, deadpan. “I change my mind. I hate you now.” He hurries to his suitcase, squishing Pooh-san’s head before sitting down on the bench and attacking his laces.

Alex and Jason show up from around the wall of lockers, curious to see what all the fuss is about.

“Who are we hating on, now?”

“Javier, apparently.”

“Oh, nice. I’m always up for that.” This time, it’s Javier who shoots a mockingly dramatic look of betrayal across the room. Alex ignores him. “What did he do this time?”

Yuzuru takes off his skates, starts drying the blades with a vengeance. “He’s being stupid.”

 “Well, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, Yuzu, my friend,” Alex walks up to him, puts a hand on his shoulder. “But that’s his default setting.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be my friend, too!”

“Tough luck, you’re losing all the friends in the divorce.”

“Are we picking sides? ‘Cause Javi’s going down, if that’s the case.”

“Wow. I feel so appreciated right now.”

“It’s nothing personal.”

“It feels kind of personal.”

Shoma, who has been following the exchange silently with his head as if it was a tennis match, gets up from his place on the bench and goes to take a seat besides Yuzuru, murmurs to him in Japanese. Yuzuru smiles and talks back, making a face before nodding his head in Javier’s direction. Misha promptly falls down on the bench, laughing.

“What? What did you say?”

Yuzuru sticks his tongue out at Javier then goes back to packing his skates, still speaking animatedly with Shoma and pointedly ignoring him. Everyone else’s gaze turns to Misha.

“I mean, I only got the gist of it, but… Man, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Oooh, Fernández you got burned!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take you out later if you have to drown your sorrows.”

“Yes! We’re nice like that.”

Javier shakes his head, laughing to himself while he ushers the Americans towards the showers.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys are hilarious. A real treat. I’m so glad I met you all.”

Their guffaws and merry-making at his expense can still be heard when they finally leave for the showers. Javier turns to look at Yuzuru, exasperated.

“Are you happy now?”

The other grins. “Very.” He also throws a cheeky wink in Shoma’s direction, who laughs and drops his head in response before standing and going back to his bag.

“Now, that was embarrassing.”

“Your fault. Maybe you should not make fun of me.”

“Okay. Lesson learned: no teasing the embarrassed swan.” Javier walks up to him, drawn by the mischievousness of those eyes. “You don’t really hate me, though, do you?”

Yuzuru stands up in a single, fluid motion. He’s barefoot and Javier still has his skates on, so he has to look up to maintain eye contact. “Now you are being really stupid.”

The Spaniard snorts, raises a hand to the other’s shoulder, fiddles with a feather there. “You’re not actually going to make me sleep on the couch, right?”

Yuzuru tilts his head, makes a show out of thinking very hard and finally smiles. “I tell you later.” Then he turns around, throws him a look over the shoulder. “You help me with zipper now.”

“So demanding.”

“So whipped” Misha gives a high-five to Yuzuru. “Good job training him, Yuzu.”

“You’re all evil.”

\---

They leave the banquet together.

“You staying with me, then?” Javier asks in the elevator, as he presses the button for his floor and Yuzuru doesn’t make a move to press his.

“Yes.” He’s already fiddling with his tie, loosening the knot. He looks at Javier and his gaze is heated, the message clear. “I still want prize.”

Javier swallows thickly, watching intently as Yuzuru deliberately licks his lips while tugging the tie off. It gets thrown over the Spaniard’s shoulder when the elevator doors open, the other walking out with purpose and a swing in his step as he gets the keycard out of his pocket.

Yuzuru laughs when the elevator almost closes again on Javier. “Come on, silly.”

“You are terrible.”

The laughter only grows, accompanying them into the room until Yuzuru gets a hand on Javier’s tie and pulls him close to kiss, pressing his joy directly onto the other’s lips.

“Mmm, you’ve been eating chocolate.”

“Sneak some cake with Shoma.”

“Oh my god. You just won the damned Worlds, eat all the cake you want.”

Yuzuru just chuckles, gets his hands underneath Javier’s suit jacket and pushes it down his arms and to the floor, chucking his own afterwards and going for the other’s tie next.

“I think I want something else now.”

The Spaniard gets dragged by the hanging ends of his tie towards the bedroom and unceremoniously pushed to sit on the bed. Yuzuru walks between his open thighs and reaches both hands to his face, a sudden softness in his gaze as he carefully gets Javier’s glasses off and onto the bedside table. Javier looks up at him with a smile, holding him by the waist.

“So, you want your reward.” His fingers travel up the other’s chest, whispering caresses over lean muscle and undoing the shirt buttons as he goes. Yuzuru’s breath gets heavier, his eyes unfocused. “I did promise.”

“Javi-“

Yuzuru’s voice drops into a groan when Javier puts his mouth on his skin, hot tongue coming out to taste at his middle while his hands move a bit lower, getting rid of the belt and opening his pants.

“Okay?” Yuzuru just nods repeatedly, lips parted, and reaches both hands to tangle in his hair, encouraging.

Javier gets to it with gusto. He pushes the fabric aside, nuzzling his face into the other’s hipbone before finally allowing himself to wrap his lips around him. He hums appreciatively when Yuzuru’s hands tighten in his hair, the pull of it like a current down his spine that drives him to move faster, suck harder. He feels the other curl towards him and looks up, batting his eyelashes slowly: he knows Yuzuru likes to watch him like this, and sure enough there’s some gritted Japanese from above that sounds very much like cursing.

He pulls back for a moment, smiling smugly. “Good?”

Yuzuru’s panting, his skin already damp from sweat, but his eyes are blazing. “Yeah.”

One of his hands moves toward Javier’s jaw, thumb dragging over the seam of his lips. The Spaniard obliges, opening his mouth and tilting his head a bit up when prompted, watching him with half-lidded eyes.

“You say I’m terrible, but you are too.”

Javier doesn’t get to laugh at the accusing tone because Yuzuru pushes himself inside again, but there’s a daring look in his eye when he puts his hands on the other’s ass and pulls him in deeper, fingers slipping under the fabric of his underwear to knead directly over skin.

Yuzuru puts a stop to things not too long afterwards, his thighs trembling under the strain of holding himself in check and his hands on Javier’s shoulders for support.

The Spaniard complains, halfheartedly. “Hey, I was enjoying that.”

“I know.” Yuzuru laughs, pats him on the head while catching his breath. “I give you something better.”

Javier watches him straighten and wipe his brow with his shirt before discarding it to the floor. He then pads to the bathroom, shedding the rest of his clothes on the way, and returns with lube and a condom.

“Here.” He chucks them at Javier then flops on the bed, stretching luxuriously.

“You found these fast.”

“You always keep in same place.”

Javier turns to look at him. “You want me to do it?”

“Too tired for other way.”

“And yet you were still jumping quads at the gala.”

The other smiles beatifically. “That why I’m tired.”

“Of course it is.”

Javier undresses quickly then crawls up the bed towards Yuzuru, who makes room for him between his legs. He kisses him deeply when he gets there, a hand on the other’s neck to tilt his head upwards and get a better angle. Yuzuru melts beneath him, hands coming up to grip at his waist.

He stays close when the kiss breaks, looking him in the eye and breathing on his moist lips. “Hi there.”

Yuzuru giggles. “Hi.”

Javier reaches a hand over the covers for the lube, coating his fingers before getting the other under Yuzuru’s knee, pushing his leg up carefully towards his chest.

“You tell me if anything feels tight, okay? The last thing I need is you pulling a muscle and Brian killing me because of this.”

The other just laughs and pulls him down to go back to kissing, biting at his lips when he feels Javier’s fingers at his entrance; groaning deep in his chest at the first touch inside and pushing his hips down impatiently for more.

Still, Javier goes slow. They’re in no rush, and though Yuzuru is fit and flexible, he’s just on the other side of a week of competition and that takes a toll on the body.

Yuzuru doesn’t really care for any of that right now.

“Javi, come on.” He whines pitifully, pawing at the other’s chest. “I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying, just being impatient.” Javier curls his fingers inside. Yuzuru’s head snaps back into the pillow with a moan, long throat exposed to the other’s biting kisses. “Just a bit more.”

When Javier finally pulls his hand away and lets Yuzuru’s leg fall back down on the mattress to put on the condom, the moment he’s done he gets dragged in again, strong thighs coming up to grip at his sides.

“Careful. You could crush a man with these.”

Yuzuru does not look amused. “No more teasing.”

“Okay, okay.”

He gets a bit more lube then lines up, pushing inside slowly. Yuzuru opens underneath him beautifully, easy and warm, his back bowed and his hands on Javier’s stomach, nails dragging on his abdomen with every thrust.

“Alright?”

Yuzuru just nods in response, brow furrowed in pleasure and lips bitten. “Javi… “ He reaches both hands out to him, a desperate look in his eye. Javier goes and gives him the kiss they both want, half breath and all heat, and feels Yuzuru’s grip tighten on his shoulder blades.

Javier increases their pace, fingers brushing aside the hair from the other’s eyes, their gazes locked on each other. The awe he feels when looking at him bleeds into his voice. “God, you’re amazing.”

Yuzuru smiles between pants, drops his hands to the pillow beside his head. Javier reads the gesture and gives him his to hold onto, intertwining their fingers and dropping his body close as they can be, chests dragging together.

Yuzuru moans at the added friction, whole body shaking. His eyes never stray, though, fixed on Javier’s as if looking for something. “You think I’m amazing?”

He tells him the truth. All of it. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

Javier watches as Yuzuru’s expression draws tight and his eyes water, feels his body go completely pliant against his and understands what’s really happening; the final release to all the tension and emotional trauma of the past days.

And in holding him close, beloved and treasured, through it, Javier finds that bit of clarity that was missing for himself, too.

Some things are more important than others; some victories, more worth the effort.

As they both tumble over the edge of pleasure, he knows.

He’s still winning where it truly counts.

\---

They actually set the alarm for next morning earlier just so they can laze in bed together for a bit before they have to go their separate ways again.

Sitting with Yuzuru between his legs, chest to back, playing with his fingers and massaging his hands, Javier isn’t even mad at not getting to sleep in.

“So, you’re staying in Japan until the WTT.”

“Yes.”

“And then you’ll see.”

“Yes.”

“You should come with me to Spain, take a vacation.” Yuzuru side-eyes him, unimpressed. Javier laughs. “What’s that for, you don’t like Spain anymore?”

“Spain is good. I like.” A private smile. “Good memories.”

“Then what?”

“Stay with family in Japan first. I miss them. Then back to Canada to train.”

“Oh, come on-“

Yuzuru hits him in the thigh when he catches the eye-roll. “Olympics next season. Have to be prepared.”

“Yes, but you’ve earned a vacation too, right? A tiny, little one?” Javier pouts, bats his eyelashes at him and goes for the most pitiful expression he can manage, considering he’s trying not to laugh.

Yuzuru just gives him a blank look for his efforts. “You do the thing with the eyes again.”

“I know. Is it working?”

He gets a hand in his face turning him away and a snort, Yuzuru’s façade coming down. “Maybe a little.”

“So you’ll think about it?”

“Yes,” he says upon the Spaniard’s lips, giving him a soft kiss. “I think about it.”

They stay like that a bit more, just soaking in the company of the other until the time for goodbyes comes. Yuzuru carries his suit folded over one arm, wearing Javier’s clothes instead until he gets to his room to change. Javier feels an irrational bubble of happiness in his chest at this, the knowledge that some part of him is physically going with Yuzuru back to Japan.

“I know it’s gonna be crazy there, but text me when you land?”

“Yes. You do the same.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Javier walks up to him, puts a hand on his neck and rests their foreheads together. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Yuzuru bridges the gap, kisses him on the lips one last time, lingering and bittersweet.

“You take care, too. You also my amazing person.”

Javier chuckles and it’s watery, but finds it in himself to leave a final kiss on the other’s forehead and then let go.

“Okay, go. Before I kidnap you, or something.”

“They find me quickly. They know where to look.”

“I’ll think of something, for next time. Now go.”

Yuzuru laughs but walks to the door. He turns with his hand on the handle, his eyes soft.

“Goodbye, Javier.”

“Goodbye, Yuzuru.”

The door closes softly behind him. Javier turns back to the bedroom, measuring the spread of his stuff and estimating how long it’s going to take to pack everything, when his phone buzzes on the bedside table.

He reaches for it absentmindedly, but smiles bright like the sun when he reads the text.

_I love you <3_

He sends back his reply, fingers flying over the screen.

_I love you too <3_

_(say thanks to your mom from me)_

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, still not over it *dies again*
> 
> (ETA: You can now find me on twitter [@Valkedictorian](https://twitter.com/Valkedictorian) or on [Curious Cat!](https://curiouscat.me/Valkedictorian))


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